


the finger gun problem

by Qrth



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: Houston Spies (Blaseball Team)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:22:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27182398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qrth/pseuds/Qrth
Summary: the spies chat was talking about that tumblr finger-in-the-gun-barrel post in relation to the team, so i wrote about itmorrow - they/themreese - they/themdenzel - they/themteddy - she/theyfitz - uses rotating pronouns
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	the finger gun problem

The Houston Spies HQ is not a place easily found. There’s great secrets within, things that most people will spend their entire life not knowing. It’s a place of knowledge and secrecy, but most importantly, it’s a place of sanctuary for the hard working members of the team. The Spies blaseball team was a highly competent group of people (and beings that didn’t fit squarely in the label of people), vital in both their discovery of forbidden knowledge and their execution of plans to protect said knowledge. They were all immensely skilled in their team roles both on and off the team, truly some of the best the world has to offer. And a part of that team, after a difficult game of blaseball, was having an intellectual discussion in the Spies break room.

“No, see, Reese is right. The bullet would hit your finger,” Theodore explains, “And then it would stop.” She kicks their feet idly from their place on top of the snack machine, which she had climbed atop earlier. Despite the attempted seriousness of her tone, there’s an unmistakable grin adorning their face and tinting her words.

Below her, sitting at the table right next to the snack machine, are three other members of their team. Denzel is checked out of the conversation with a large newspaper opened in front of them, sipping coffee from a mug labeled “World’s ████ ██████”. Next to them, with a somehow matching expression to Teddy on their nonexistent face, is Reese. The faceless spy has abandoned the honey bun they had been pretending to eat, and was fully enraptured in this conversation they obviously instigated. 

“You can’t be serious.” Morrow, sitting across the table from Reese, looks between them and Teddy. “That’s not- that’s not how any of that works. The bullet would just.. Go through the finger.” 

“But the finger is in the way.” Reese says, their voice devoid of all humor.

“Yeah, it can’t get past the finger.” Teddy echoes, barely containing their laughter. 

“Guns run off of like, mini-explosions. There’s so much force there!” Morrow runs one hand down their face in exasperation. “It’s going to shatter your finger bones. All of them.”

Reese, ever stony face, just shakes their head. “The bullet would go forward a little, and then hit the finger. And then it would have to stop.” Teddy nods frantically in the background, her grin almost reaching her ears.

Morrow, looking like they’re about to start flipping tables, desperately turns to the person they expect to be more reasonable in this situation. 

“Denzel! Denzel. Denzel you have to help me.” Morrow pleads. “You shouldn’t stick your finger in a gun, right? It’s not going to stop the bullet.”

The spy in question slowly lowers their newspaper, casting a discerning eye over the waiting trio. Teddy covers her face with their hands to hide her grin, but they’re still audibly giggling about this. Reese, as they typically are, is blank-faced. Morrow is waiting with bated breath, hoping to get an ally in this situation. 

“Hm. In most cases, yes, it is very bad to stick your finger in a gun.” Denzel says, and Morrow immediately bursts into applause. Denzel then, having said their piece, flips the newspaper back up, and continues to read.

“See!” Morrow points at Reese and Teddy triumphantly. “Denzel’s on my side.”

“So that’s two against two. Meaning we’re undecided,” Reese says.

“Yeah!” Teddy says, at the point in their laughing fit where a gentle sheen of pink fluff was beginning to crop up on their arms. “We aren’t- hehehe, we aren’t sure yet!”

“The results aren’t in yet. There’s just no conclusive evidence that putting your finger in a gun’s shoot-hole won’t simply stop the bullet.”

Morrow gently puts their head to the table, recollecting themselves. They stay like that for a solid minute, and the room is silent except for Teddy’s stifled giggles. Then they sit up, and point directly at the door to the breakroom.

“Fine. Alright. Tiebreaker, we ask the first person that comes through that door.” Morrow says.

“Sounds good to me!” Teddy says, “I bet it’s going to be someone reasonable, like, hehehe like Comfy or Karato.”

“Yeah, reasonable. That’s the word I would use for either of those people.” Morrow says, fondness leaking through the attempted sarcasm in their voice. 

Reese lets out a low chuckle at that, shifting in their seat. The room settles into a companionable silence this time. Morrow allows themselves a small smile at the absurdity of this entire argument before going back to their neutral face of displeasure. Teddy begins kicking their feet a bit more rapidly, excited to see whoever opened the door next.

It was almost no time at all before the door swung slowly open and one of their team members strolled in. Trailed by plumes of black smoke, Fitz walked into the room in the same manner she always walked; with confidence, poise and purpose.

The suave noir vibe that followed Fitz wherever she goes was immediately broken as she was met with a chorus of noise from her teammates.

“FITZ! Fitz, it’s so important you have to listen to me- don’t side with them!”

“No, no, Fitz ignore them, me and Reese have proof-”

“Proof? Proof? You two don’t have proof!”

“She’s right. We do.”

“You do NOT!”

Fitz stands in the doorway as the trio continues to chatter in zir direction, vying for zir attention. Zir face is expressionless, as it commonly is, simply waiting for the noise to stop. When it eventually does, Morrow and Teddy a bit out of breath, then ze speaks.

“Alright. What is it that you want me to have an opinion on?” Fitz says.

Both Morrow and Teddy open their mouth to speak, but Fitz puts a hand out. 

“Please. One at a time this time.” 

Teddy and Morrow exchange looks, and Morrow motions for Teddy to go first.

“So, we were talking, and Reese brought up a great new idea for training!” Teddy says, grinning down at Fitz from her snack-machine perch. “In order to keep people safe from guns, we should train our operatives to put their fingers in the shoot hole.” From their seat at the table, Reese is nodding along to this.

“The…. shoot hole.” Fitz says cautiously.

“Yes! So the bullet would hit their finger, and stop moving.” Teddy says with confidence.

“And me and Denzel,” Morrow motions to the other player, who is still just drinking coffee and reading their newspaper, “Were saying that it’s not going to work like that, and you’d just break a finger.”

“So you’re asking my opinion on whether or not we should go around putting our fingers in guns.” Fitz deadpans.

“Yes. We’re undecided on whether or not it’s a good idea right now.” Reese pipes up from the table, where they have unwrapped the honeybun they have no intention of eating. “It’s tied up at 2-2 right now. You’re the deciding vote, Fitzy.”

“Fitz,” Morrow pleads, “You gotta help me out here, Fitz.”

Fitz takes a long look at Teddy, on top of the snack machine. Then xe takes a long look at the trio at the table. Finally, xe sighs deeply, and moves forward to stand at the head of the table like xir going to make an announcement. 

“My official opinion on it is that I’m staying out of it.” As he says that, he leans forward and takes the honeybun out of Reese’s hands. “Have fun all of you.” He turns, then strolls out of the room with his stolen honeyburn.

“...”

“...”

“...”

“I’m counting that as a no. They didn’t even want to interact with the concept!”

“No, no way! Fitz clearly wanted to say yes there, I could feel it!”

“ Ykno, taking gifts from a side you don’t agree with is pretty weird. And I totally gave them that honeybun.”

With no resolution in sight the three of them start their debate again, waiting for another member of their team to stumble into the break room and be unwittingly sucked into the chaos. A standard day in the Spies HQ, and a standard day with the Houston Spies.


End file.
